


Leaf-Turning on Corellia

by elusivelover_archivist



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Commitment, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-24 08:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17096909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elusivelover_archivist/pseuds/elusivelover_archivist
Summary: By Angelia SparrowHan and Luke enjoy the fall.





	Leaf-Turning on Corellia

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Cara Loup, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Elusive Lover](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Elusive_Lover_\(Star_Wars_archive\)) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Elusive Lover’s collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ElusiveLover).

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” The forest arched above the men, red and gold, brown and green. Violent pink leaves showed on vines that a week before had been sedate green-blue. Tiny rachis ran over the branches, and down the tree trunks, gathering food for the coming dormant season.

“I can’t believe we’ve been bonded twenty years and I never brought you here for Leaf-turning,” Han said.

Luke scuffled his feet in the fallen leaves, listening to their dry rattle. “It’s amazing.” He stooped to pick up an unusual purple one. “What’s this one?”

“That’s a flamepetal leaf. They always turn purple.” Han found a couple of damp brown ones and rolled them between his hands before holding the twist up for Luke to smell.

“Nice. Spicy.”

“Vana tree. Smells exactly like Spice. You smoke it instead of eat it or chew it, and it just gives a little buzz. Wila and Ingi used to sneak me out of the house when I was a kid, and we’d sit out here and smoke the leaves and watch the rachis.”

“Bet Elka loved that.” Luke was well acquainted with the temper of Han’s oldest sister. It had only sharpened with age.

Han snorted and leaned against a tree. “You have no idea. Wila and I’d try to sneak in, but we’d be so buzzed Elka always caught us. She finally got fed up one Leaf-turning when she’d caught me three times in one week and sent me to Grandad.” A cock-eyed grin of memory lit his face. “Guess who’d taught Ingi how to smoke the leaves.”

Luke laughed and pressed close, catching his mate between the bole of the tree and his body. “Thank you for bringing me. This is gorgeous.” He kissed Han, loving the smell the cool wind had left on his hair, the sun-warmed taste of his skin. The open bantha-leather greatcoat was warm and soft with age under his hands. He slid questing hands under the shirt.

Han flinched away from the cold fingers on his stomach and broke the kiss. “Your hands are cold.”

“Everything’s cold these days.”

“Warm them up.” He relaxed and let Luke lay his hands on his stomach as he gathered his mate into his arms, wrapping the greatcoat he wore around both of them. The palms warmed quickly, but the fingers were still cool when they moved up his chest to toy with the curly hair, and rub his nipples. Luke’s mouth was demanding against his neck and shoulder, and one leg had found its way between Han’s and was pressing solidly, with a nice rocking motion.

“Here?” Han asked, excited by the fierce suddenness of the onslaught.

“Where better?”

“Insatiable mind bender,” Han whispered between kisses.

“Irresistible scoundrel.” Luke had had his own layers of tunics as well as Han’s shirt open, and was working on the pants.

“Gonna just shove me up against a tree and have your way with me?”

“You want me to?” Luke pulled Han down to kneel on the forest floor with him. “I’d rather do this.” Letting Han brace against the tree, Luke pressed in close, opening his own pants.

The leaves swirled around them as they made love against the tree. The afternoon light slanted golden through the trees, gilding Luke’s hair to remembered youth, tipping Han’s own iron-grey strands with bronze.

They slumped in each other’s arms, still wrapped in the coat, the air cooling as the purple shadows of the woods began to lengthen. Slowly, joints creaking from staying in one position too long, they rose and began the walk back to Elka’s house.

“Wait a second.” Han stared at the ground, and tracked the depth of the purple leaves, pulling Luke along by the hand. “There it is.”

The trees twined around each other, their yellow bark grown together in places until the trunks were inseparable. The foliage had turned from green to dark purple, and the two-lobed leaves were starting to pile in drifts around the roots.

A single golden flower bloomed on a low branch, its outer petals already drooping with anticipated frost.

“The last flamepetal of the year.” Han reached up and plucked it. It filled his cupped hands, and its scent wafted over them, rich and sweet. Luke covered Han’s hands with his own, and looked at his mate.

“Make a wish,” Han said. “It’s good luck to wish on the last one of the season with your lover.”

“Forever,” Luke said, the word affirmation, promise and wish all at once.

“Forever,” Han agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He leaned over the flower and Luke met him halfway.

The first star of the evening appeared through the canopy of leaves, hanging in the dark blue sky like a seal on the promise.

*** End ***


End file.
